Making the Cut Read Online Anne Malcom (Sons of Templar MC #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Contemporary, Erotic, MC Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 145606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
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“Don’t do that, you scared the bejesus out of me,” I said tightly. “And don’t read my texts over my shoulder, that’s rude.”

He ignored me, wrapping his arms around me, running them up my body, caressing my breasts. I couldn’t help but moan, just a little.

“I think we better keep working on getting those cobwebs out babe, don’t think I was thorough enough,” Cade told me gruffly.

I so didn’t find that funny. I pulled away from him (with extreme effort) and crossed my arms. “I need you to take me home now, please.”

Cade frowned. “That keen to get away are we?”

“No, I just have work to do, a job? Do you know what that is?” I said with a slight bite, wondering if he even had a job, one that didn’t include committing felonies.

Cade’s frown deepened. “Yeah, babe, I do,” he clipped. “Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Uh-oh, maybe I was being a bitch, I thought about apologizing but was just too stubborn for that. “I’m ready,” I said, trying to avoid his angry stare.

He picked up his jeans and pulled them on commando before slipping on the tee I was just wearing. It took all of my willpower not to jump him.

“Right let’s go.” He all but pushed me towards the front door.

I quickly took in what I could see of the rest of his house. We were walking towards the foyer, with a coat rack piled full of jackets and a couple of pairs of boots below it. As we approached the door, I glanced to my left to see an open plan living room/kitchen area jutting off the foyer. It was sparse, with a couch that had seen better days sitting in the middle, an old afghan was thrown haphazardly over the back. A cluttered coffee table sat in front of it, littered with beer bottles and what looked like motorcycle parts. A huge TV took up a lot of space in the room, it looked top of the range. Boys and their toys. I mentally shook my head. To the right of the living room was a big kitchen with a breakfast bar sitting in front and stools in front of that. I craned my head to get a better look, and hadn’t realized I had all but stopped walking, that was until I felt Cade’s heavy glare.

“Babe,” he clipped staring at me, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“What?” I asked slightly irritated with him for interrupting my noseying.

“You want to get to your store or you want to get the floor plan of my house?”

I screwed my face up at him. Attractive, I know. “My store thank you,” I muttered and continued to walk towards the door, where he stood.

Someone pounded on the door, loudly. I jumped, the obviously strong fist banging on the door brought back some nasty memories. Cade glanced at me, looking puzzled before he opened it.

The man on the other side of it did nothing to help my already fragile nerves. He was big, not as tall or as built as Cade but still imposing, built like a pit bull and looking about as nice; this guy was scary. Bald head, maybe in his early fifties, he had a black goatee covering his chin. A tattoo crawled up his neck, words I couldn’t make out. He was wearing jeans with a black thermal and a cut over top. My eyes zeroed in on the ‘President’ patch on his cut. I looked back to his face and into his eyes which were currently focused on me.

One look at this guy and I knew. I didn’t know with Jimmy, well, not until it was too late because he hid it under his good looks, his charm and his intoxicating presence. But after being around the people Jimmy associated with and after my attack, I knew. I knew bad when I saw it. It’s not something in a person’s eyes, it’s a lack of something, humility, compassion, I don’t know for sure, I don’t know how to describe it. But when you’ve looked evil straight in the face, you don’t forget what it looks like, and I knew I was looking at a version of what nearly got me killed over a year ago.

He was now glaring at me, pointedly looking me up and down, in a way that made me need a shower. I glared right back even though I was scared shitless on the inside. The ‘Prez’ gave me one last leer then dismissed me, focusing on Cade.

“We got a problem at the garage. Your skills are needed. Now,” he ordered, without a good morning, hello, nothing.

Cade’s frown, already deep at seeing the wordless exchange between me and his ‘President’, turned into a glower.

“I’ll drop Gwen off and be there in twenty,” he declared with an edge to his voice.

“No, you come now. Get one of the prospects to come up and take your bitch home.” The ‘President’ gave me a sneer, looking at Cade as if he expected him to jump to attention.

What an asshole! I know that bikers referred to women as ‘bitches’ and I didn’t like it, but most of the time it was offhand, came natural. But I knew this guy meant it to degrade me, dismiss me. Especially by the glance he flicked my way, like I was some whore. I guessed, though I couldn’t be sure, this might be a usual occurrence for Cade, as another thing I knew about bikers, they liked to fuck, often, and with different girls, most of whom were disposable.

I felt the air get thick as Cade’s glare went thunderous.

“Steg. I got Gwen. Ain’t one of the prospects coming to get her. Told you I’ll be twenty fuckin’ minutes,” He ground out.

Steg glared right back at Cade, then me, looking like he was ready to blow his top. “And I said we need you. Now.” His face was red, he obviously didn’t like being talked back to.

“Yeah, well, since you need me you’re going to have to wait,” Cade declared with barely contained anger. “I’ll be there in twenty.”


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